


masquerade

by RosaNautica



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Gen, Implied M/M, and Dan’s confused feelings, because of kinda bit of a flirt, but i can’t tell what this is, probably cause it makes no sense..., why do i keep writing untaggable stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 08:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18656605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaNautica/pseuds/RosaNautica
Summary: Casual meeting in the hotel gym and Danny pondering about the teammate things.





	masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, here’s what I would tell Nico if I were his friend…
> 
> I will go and risk losing my credit with this thing, it’s been nagging me since Bahrain and I just had to put it down, after this weekend, sorry…  
> Because these two are a bunch of bad luck, honestly.  
> Set after Bahrain GP (or can be after Baku, if you want)

“Thought it was my Red Bull car that was jinxed but turns out it’s me."

“Well, just don’t spread it around, I’m cursed enough as I am,” Nico crooked a sour smile. They looked at each other and after a few seconds cracked up.

“Dream team, huh?”

In the next minutes, there was only buzz of stationary bike and Nico’s sneakers tapping on the treadmill, accompanied by syncopated breaths that were stirring something undesirably dirty in Daniel. He took a sip of water and cleared his throat. 

“Haven’t you ever thought of switching to endurance?”

“Whut?!”

“You won Le Mans, on the first try – mate, I could never even dream about that!”

“Of course you could,” Nico laughed, wiping off the sweat before it would trickle into his eyes and threw the towel around his neck.                        

“Nah, look, I can’t really see Bolt winning a marathon, kind of…”

He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“It’s all about the mindset.”

Now Daniel had some doubts about that but decided not to voice them. After all, he had no experience whatsoever of longer than two hours races.

“Well then, what if yours is fixated on endurance, and you just don’t wanna see it?” he smirked.

“Up for some mind games, Danny boy?” Nico chuckled. “Try harder, this was lousy. I’m not that Verstappen kid, I’m too old for this.”

Daniel’s foot slipped off the pedal. Well, first of all, that kid could win a mind gaming championship, he thought and then he stopped to wonder how much of a joke it was.

And to question himself, whether he indeed subconsciously tried something on his teammate. Because he honestly thought he said it with intention to help.

If such thing can exist in their sport – aside from "helping" the team, “helping” the number one driver… Just genuine, unconditional help.

It probably can’t.

“What do you think? Bad karma or God’s wrath?” Nico continued, voice wavering in the rhythm of jogging. The Aussie shook his head with an exasperated huff, his mind still mostly elsewhere.

Nico seemed like a nice, down-to-earth person around the paddock, they’ve been getting along pretty well.

But…

Teammates are a whole different thing. Whether you like it or not, the time spent together gets you involved, in a way. And you want to know who with.

Daniel had no clue.

Of course, that trademark grin often was more of a mask than anything else, but when it came to play pretend, he had nothing on Nico Hülkenberg.

The guy was _unreadable_.

Ever laidback, collected, kind and unobtrusive, well-spoken with the media, good fun when appropriate; yet there was something icy, disconcerting about him.

“We should figure out a way to get rid of this shit... How about a spiritual séance?”

Not that he was outright fake, Daniel thought, glancing sideways at the German childishly excited by his own stupid idea. Rather… split.

A schizoid just like him, their nature yielding to the competitive mentality.

_Here’s what years in racing do to you. Blur the lines._

A part of Daniel ached to know him better, a part wanted to build the Great Wall of China 2.0 between them.

“Like, calling the spirit of my dead engine and stuff? Sounds fun,” he grinned widely. “I’ll bring a book, you get some pendulum.”

“Just a gentle reminder: we will need something with letters in it,” Nico said biting his tongue cheekily.

“Idiot. _A Fighter’s Heart_ , good enough?”

“Sounds sufficient. What is it?”

“MMA. None of your interest, I guess, but it has all the letters you want,” Daniel managed to say through the face-splitting smile. It was so random that he actually wanted to do it. Nico dropped his jaw, as if to ask further, then just nodded.

“Awesome. So, your place or mine, tonight?” he quirked an eyebrow, lips pursed slightly, mischievous look focused on the display of his treadmill again as he was adjusting the speed, and Daniel thought that if he was playing mind games before, he surely wasn’t the only one.

 

 

If they weren’t teammates, ergo main rivals, they could simply sit down with a pint of beer and pour out all their frustrations without pulling half-hearted jokes.

He could explain what he meant by that suggestion: for Nico not to waste himself on something he wasn’t made for, only to drown deeper and deeper in his bitterness.

Maybe… they could draw each other in a comforting hug after a shitshow like this last race (which he sometimes longed for and it was unsettling).

 

If they weren’t both drivers, they could...

 

Except they were. And every thought, every move had the stale aftertaste of calculation.

**Author's Note:**

> I still got this feeling that I’ve missed my point T_T but in case some of you found it, I’ll be more than happy! XD


End file.
